A Second Chance in the Show Me State - Jessie Gussman Page 0,45

beside him, on his side, the way that squeeze meant.

Emerson moved, her head brushing his shoulder, almost like she were tilting her head to try to hear better.

“Mom and Dad?” It was Houston again. He took a deep breath, blowing it out. They had no trouble hearing that, like he was gathering his courage. “I....I’m sorry, but we are not going to open this door.”

“Oh yes, you are, son. You’re going to do it right—”

Emerson’s hand landed on his chest again. Her other hand, because she kept her right hand clasped in his.

His words broke off immediately. Even though he couldn’t see her, his eyes searched for hers in the dark.

Her hand lifted off his chest, and in another second, it landed lightly on his lips.

He knew exactly what that gesture meant, but he was more than a little distracted by the feel of her finger on his lips. He wasn’t thinking about talking anymore.

He was thinking about nipping her finger.

Grabbing that hand in his, kissing the palm and her wrist. Her wrist had always been very sensitive.

“Dad, hear us out, please.” That was Dallas, and the most mature voice Reid had ever heard him use.

“Go ahead, boys. We’re listening,” Emerson said, but it wasn’t in her authoritative, businesswoman voice.

It wasn’t even in her “I’m your mom, and you’re going to listen to me” voice.

Her voice didn’t exactly sound trembling and weak, but from the tone that she used, he had the idea that maybe his touch had affected her. As much as hers had affected him.

“We put some blankets and a flashlight and some snacks and a couple other things in a pile on the floor.”

Ah, yes. The pile.

Reid’s hand came up as Emerson’s finger started to slip away from his lips. He caught it and pressed it closer, kissing it gently before moving her hand up and kissing her wrist, too.

Maybe he shouldn’t have. She hadn’t indicated in any way that he was welcome to kiss her.

But she should know if she were going to touch his lips that he’d rather kiss her than do anything else.

She didn’t jerk her hand away but allowed him to press his lips to her wrist for several seconds.

Dallas spoke again. “We have your phones, but you could have them if you really want them. Because Grandma knows exactly what we’re doing, and she and Uncle Deacon are on board with it. Uncle Deacon is actually gonna come pick us up and take us to stay the night at Grandma’s house.”

“I should’ve known your mother was involved in this,” Emerson said in a whisper laced with humor.

Reid had to chuckle softly. “Yeah. This has her fingerprints all over it. Deacon’s as well. For as serious as he looks, he’s such a matchmaker.”

“Maybe he’s forgotten we’ve already been matched,” Emerson said softly.

Reid didn’t like the sadness in her voice. It bothered him. He didn’t like to see her sad.

“Deacon’s annoying, but he almost always has good ideas.” It wasn’t that long ago that Reid had been thinking that himself about Deacon’s ideas for someone else.

It applied to him as well, he was sure.

Sometimes it was just hard to implement ideas other than the ones that one had planned.

“This isn’t a funny trick or joke, boys. It’s going to get cold tonight, and your mother shouldn’t be outside.”

He wasn’t entirely sure that Deacon and his mom being involved meant what he thought it did.

Until Dallas spoke again. “You and Mom have some things you need to talk about. And this was the only way that Houston and I could figure out how to get you guys to do it. So if you guys have come to a good decision in the morning, we’ll let you out. If not...”

There was whispering on the other side of the door as the boys maybe argued back and forth before Houston’s voice came through the door. “If not, we’ll talk to Uncle Deacon and decide what to do tomorrow morning.”

Beside him, Emerson’s breath huffed out. He could only assume it was a laugh. One he had to imitate.

There was no doubt that the boys had come up with this idea on their own. There was also no doubt that Deacon, and probably his mom, had helped.

“We should be grateful they’re getting Deacon to help them. I bet that’s where the blanket came from.” He spoke low so the boys wouldn’t overhear him.

“And your mom too. That’s probably where the food came from.”

He laughed outright at that. “I’m sure